


Just someone to walk you home

by slof



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Artist Yachi, College AU, F/M, Idk tags who does, Osamu dumb, Osayachiweek, coffee shop AU, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slof/pseuds/slof
Summary: This time, Yachi has someone to walk home with her
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Just someone to walk you home

**Author's Note:**

> College AU; coffee shop AU “Can I sit here?”

Tucking back a loose strand of her blonde hair, Hitoka let out a huff as she twirled a pencil between her fingers. The coffee shop she sat in was packed with people, and Hitoka was sure she’d probably be better off sketching things off from the view of her balcony back at the apartment buildings than sitting in the bustling cafe. It wasn’t that the cafe was loud per se, it was just that it made the cafe hot. 

She tugged on the collar of her shirt, letting out a hot breath of air as she sighed. The sketchbook that sat on her table still sat empty, even with the view she wanted to draw right next to her. With the window to her right, Hitoka rested her face in her palm and looked out of it, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip as she wondered where to start.

_ ‘The top of the buildings, maybe, or the street. Maybe I should start at that car — oh, but what if it moves?’ _

“Yachichi.”

“Huh?” Hitoka looked over, eyes meeting with the grey eyes of her much-taller best friend. 

“I asked if you wanted another iced-coffee,” Takahiro said, reaching for the empty glass that sat on her table. He placed it on the tray he had in his hand and frowned at her. “Have you gotten any work done?” He asked.

“No,” she said through a sigh. “No, and this is due tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t be better off at home doing it?”

“Maybe,” she muttered, “but I promised you I’d be here.”

“Chichi,” Takahiro began, a sad tone in his voice, “at least head home when Matsukawa gets here. He’ll protect me from my dickhead manager.” A smile formed on his face. “I’ll be fine, but in the meantime, I’ll bring you another iced-coffee.”

“Thank you,” Hitoka muttered, and Takahiro nodded, heading back behind the counter to the kitchen of the cafe. 

Takahiro returned a few minutes later with a new iced-coffee before he had to run off, busting his ass in the overly populated cafe. He must’ve been getting good tips, and he better be getting a good pay — Hitoka and Issei would be sure to make sure of that.

Hitoka sat there, and she continued to sit there even after Issei arrived and hung out at the counter with Takahiro. She focused on her college assignment, tapping her eraser on her lips. A while ago she had started sketching, lightly outlining the street and building that sat beyond the window. 

“Ya look confused.”

_‘Huh?’_ Hitoka glanced from her sketchbook, and her eyes traveled up until they made contact with the grey ones standing before her. She knew him from before, a friend of her friend’s boyfriend — more specifically, a friend of Issei. 

Miya Osamu. 

“Can I sit here?” He asked suddenly, pointing to the other side of the booth. The man carried a laptop, a backpack hanging on one shoulder. He wore a dark grey sweater and a soft smile, and something about the jeans he wore pulled together the whole outfit. 

Hitoka nodded, and Osamu gave her a smile, sliding into the booth as he pulled his bag off his shoulder. He set it down in the seat next to him and placed down his laptop.

“Yachi, right?”

“Huh?” Hitoka blinked a few times. “Oh, yeah! And you’re Osamu?”

Osamu smiled. “Glad to hear ya guess me instead of my brother first.”

“You have a brother?” Hitoka asked, and the other laughed.

“Twin, actually.”

“Woah,” she mumbled. “That must be fun?”

“Pain in the ass.”

Hitoka laughed, and she put a hand over her mouth to cover it. She looked back down to her sketchbook, darkening a line on the page. While dragging the led, Hitoka began to hum a tune. She’d glance up out of the window and down back at her sketchbook. 

“Whatcha drawin’?” 

Hitoka looked up from the paper, and her facial expression was soft in question, eyebrows raised.  “Oh, um,” she pointed out the window, “there.” Osamu leaned forward to look, and he stared for a few moments before falling back in his seat. 

“Looks nice.” 

“Thanks,” Hitoka mumbled, a soft smile forming on her lips. She looked back to her sketchbook and continued sketching.

“Hey, losers,” a voice said as they walked over. “Yachichi, you can head home,” he said as he picked up Hitoka’s empty glass. “Matsu is here so you don’t need to worry.” Takahiro smiled at her.

Hitoka gave a sigh, and she closed her sketchbook. “Fine,” she said. “Alright, fine.” She pulled out a twenty from her bag and handed it to Takahiro. He took it with a _‘thank you, Chichi’_ and an overly dramatic bow before he left back to the counter to pay for Hitoka’s drinks. She began to pack up her things, slipping the sketchbook in her bags, opening the small pencil case to put away the drawing tools.

“Hey, um,” the twin started to say just as Hitoka was standing from the booth, “I can walk ya home?”

“Huh?” 

“Let me walk ya home,” Osamu said as he stood up from the booth, and he put his laptop in his bag with haste that made Hitoka scared he was going to drop it. “Walks alone aren’t any fun.”

Hitoka chewed the inside of her cheek, swinging her bag on her shoulder as she thought about it. 

“Okay,” she finally agreed with a nod. 

  
  


Osamu had left his bag with Issei and left the cafe with Hitoka. They walked in silence. Instead, they listened to the cars and people around them as they walked down the street.

“So how long have ya known Hanamaki?” Osamu suddenly asked to strike up a conversation.

“Hana?” Hitoka laughed. “Far too long,” she replied. “Are you and Matsukawa close?” She asked, and her hands regrouped themselves on the straps of her bag.

“Mhm. Been close fer years.”

Hitoka smiled. “Well, it looks like our best friends are—“ Hitoka searched for the word.

“In love with each other?” 

She let out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess they are.” Hitoka paused while walking having reached her apartment building, and Osamu stopped as well. They had wasted too much time walking in silence that it didn't leave much room for a long conversation. “Thanks. You didn’t have to walk me all the way out here.”

“Hey, no trouble,” Osamu said. “It’d do it again.”

The back of Hitoka’s neck heated up, and her posture stiffened. Osamu noticed. It made him realize what he had said, and his eyes grew in size.

“I—I just meant I didn’t have a problem with walkin’ with ya, n’ I’d do it ‘gain if I could just ta spend more time wit ya—“ Hitoka’s laugh cut him off, and Osamu’s felt his cheeks fill with a warmth of a wood stove furnace. 

“You have a really thick accent,” she said through a giggle.

“Only when ‘m nervous,” Osamu muttered. Hitoka smiled, and she repositioned her bag on her shoulder. After that, she clasped her hands in front of her and stared down at her feet. 

“Well,” she began to say, “tomorrow I was going to hang out there with Hana, he has another shift.” She reached up and brushed back a strand of hair, finally looking up to Osamu’s grey eyes — the large, shaking pupils that stared down at Hitoka. “Maybe you can walk me home tomorrow too then.”

“Same time?” Osamu asked.

Hitoka nodded. “Same time.” She began to backpedal down the path to her apartment building, a hand raised, and with the flick of her wrist, she waved him goodbye. “See you, Osamu.”

“See ya,” he said quietly, and he watched her disappear into the building. 

  
  


Osamu started his way back, hands shoved in his pockets before he craned his head back to look up at the light blue sky. The clouds moved slowly now, paced with the thumps of his heart after he had calmed down a bit. 

He’d get to walk Hitoka home tomorrow; he’d get to walk by her side; he’d get to let his arm brush against hers; he’d get to listen to the smooth, soft whistle of her voice.

Normally, Osamu hated going anywhere. He preferred to spend his afternoon in the kitchen at the college, working behind and getting some real experience, getting ahead of anyone else.

Though with the chance to spend some time with Hitoka, someone who Osamu felt like was one of a kind the moment he saw her, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity.


End file.
